The Adventures of Hydrogen Bond
by The Feral Candy Cane
Summary: Formerly "Daydream Drabbles". Some chapters written by True Colours. All input welcome! Chapter 7: Normal Boy - Alex has a good day at school.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yeah... so my biology professor was giving us a chemistry lecture... And this just kinda popped up. Hope you like it!**

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Like any normal kid, Alex Rider was sitting in Chemistry class when he received a text. Unlike the normal kids, the text contained a message of emergency from MI6. More specifically, it was from Mr. Blunt.

_Alex. Emergency. Please report to R&G ASAP. Blunt._

Annoyed, Alex (surreptitiously) replied, _I'm in class. After school?_

_Now. I don't care how you get out. Use your imagination._

Alex smirked. Blunt didn't know what he was asking for.

"Ma'am?" he raised his hand innocently, interrupting his professor's lecture on molecules.

She subtly rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mr. Rider?"

Alex stood up and began to make his way to the front of the class. "I've realised that my recent absences have been a mystery to everyone lately, so I want you to know exactly where I've been."

He turned to the class. "I know that we've told you that I've been sick a lot since my uncle died. Most of you think I'm a drug dealer, or something similarly ridiculous. But the truth is… that I'm a spy. My name is not Alex Rider. The name's Bond. Hydrogen Bond. My boss hath summoned me now, and I must depart. Farewell."

And thus, with his class staring open mouthed, he left the classroom. Behind him, he could clearly hear the teacher mutter, "He really is on drugs…"

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**A/N: This is another I've managed to not quite get to my liking... but hopefully you enjoyed it! This is the start of my Daydream Drabbles! Welcome!**

**P.S. I can't get better if you don't review!**


	2. Dear Mrs Jones

**A?N: Had a random thought earlier... What if Mrs. Jones ran out of peppermints? And went through withdrawals? And hence, this was born. Enjoy!**

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Dear Mrs. Jones,

I need the paperwork concerning the most recent Johnson mission, as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Mr. Blunt

.

Dear Mr. Blunt,

I am holding your paperwork ransom for a sum of 10,000 peppermints in installments of 1000 peppermints a week.

Bring the first installment to my office by 8:00 am tomorrow, or the paperwork pays.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Jones

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**The End. **

**P.S. I don't own any characters associated with the Alex Rider series, or the series itself. Just the books.**


	3. True Colours

**Feral Candy Cane's A/N: This was written by the admriable True Colours in a excellent combination of my drabbles so far! We both hope you enjoy!**

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**_True Colour's A/N: Written for Feral Candy Cane's 'Daydream Drabbles.' What happens when Alan Blunt tells Alex to use his imagination?_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Alex and his Awesome Amigos. Or the idea either._**

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Alex hurried down the street towards the Royal and General, his school bag banging on his back. He pulled open the glass door and saluted to the receptionist.

"Agent Hydrogen Bond signing in, officer!"

The man seemed to be in some state of shock.

"S-s-sure," he whispered. "Go right on in…"

Puzzled, Alex set off up the stairs. Everything seemed oddly silent, except for a loud bang as he climbed the stairs. A flurry of papers swirled over the banisters and floated down around him. He picked one up and scanned it: "The vital role of goldfish in intelligence work today; a glass bowl can preserve your cover!" the title read. Alex shrugged, dropped the paper and continued towards the office.

He reached the final corridor, and still no sign of anyone, apart from one man who gave a frightened squeak and attempted to hide behind a potted palm. Increasingly puzzled, Alex arrived at the office door and knocked. A low moan sounded from within. Alex inhaled deeply and entered.

Mrs Jones was hunched over her desk, massaging her temples. As Alex stepped forward she moaned again, her hands clenching into fists.

"Uh, Mrs Jones?"

"Gone!" she wailed, "run out! All gone!"

"Mrs Jones, are you alright?"

"The peppermints!" she rasped, seizing his shirt in a vice-like grip.

"All gone! I tried, I searched, I even held the paperwork hostage, but no-one could produce-"

Her breath began to come in gasps. '_Oh help_,_'_ Alex thought, _'first aid! Come on, they must have taught me something in the Brecon Beacons!'_

_'Mouth to mouth resuscitation!' the sergeant barked, striding up and down between the ranks of soldiers. 'You press your mouth firmly against the patient's and blow…'_

_'I'm not kissing Wolf!' Alex protested, while people sniggered and wolf-whistled around him._

_'Are you saying there's something wrong with my face?' Wolf growled, his fist colliding with Alex's temple. He didn't remember much after that until waking up four hours later to find he'd missed not only CPR but the whole of dinner and…_

_Gahhh!_ Alex thought frantically, _don't go there!_

"Now Mrs J," he said out loud, prising her hands off his throat, "I think you just need to calm down here. Mr Blunt told me something useful this morning, he said I needed to use my imagination, so what we need to do is, we need to visualise…"

"Oh, don't mention that evil mint-withholding sadist to me!" Mrs Jones snarled, wrenching her wrists out of his grasp. "What does he know, he's a fool, we must kill…"

"No, no, think positive thoughts. So he may be a sadist, but even our enemies can have good ideas at times, like…"

"Oh yes, like whom?"

"Like, like, like Yassen Gregorovich for example."

Mrs Jones raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, he told me to find Scorpia, and if I hadn't followed his advice I would never have been recruited and I'd never have tried to kill you and you'd never have captured me and told me the truth and I'd never have saved the entire teenage population of London."

"And never been shot by a sniper?"

"Yes, I mean no, I mean…"

"Your argument is pathetic."

"Look Mrs Jones, something's shining!" Alex exclaimed, pointing wildly over her shoulder.

"What, where?" she cried, twisting round.

"Mr Blunt told me something useful this morning," Alex said, taking her wrists again. "Now what we need to do is visualise…"

"OK," Mrs Jones said, nodding and licking her lips nervously. "OK. I'm visualising."

"Visualise the mints. Relax, breath, close your eyes and focus until you can taste them, free your mind and allow your chi to flow."

"I feel it," Mrs Jones gasped. "I taste them, Alex!"

_I'm pretty good at this,_ Alex thought smugly. "Good, that's veeery good," he said out loud. "We have now slowed your heart rate and reached a state of mental and physical equilibrium."

"Do you know, Alex, I believe I am feeling a little better. And now, to broach the subject of," her face darkened, "Mr Blunt. And the original matter for which we contacted you. Come, we have much to discuss."

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_**True Colour's A/N: Don't blame me, I had nothing to do with it! Please, PLEASE review, they make me so happy! They are my own personal mints!**_

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**Feral Candy Cane's A/N: I like butterscotch candies, personally... but since this gets to be totally TC's, they can be minty. XD Thanks for reading!**


	4. Mr Blunt's Confusion

**A/N: So it seems that we've taken two drabbles, tied them together, and formed some sort of crack fic... Therefore, soon, this story's title will be changing, and I'm going to post the Daydream Drabbles elsewhere, or I'll take down these chapters and post them again under a different name. I haven't decided yet. but anyways, here's the next installment of the Hydrogen Bond arc, "Mr. Blunt's confusion". Enjoy!**

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Mr. Blunt was confused. He was actually confused twice over. The first confusion was because he wasn't used to being confused in the first place. He was one of the most powerful people in the world and knew almost everything that happened concerning himself and his country. For something so strange to pop up out of nowhere… well, it confused him.

The second reason he was confused was because his desk was missing. In its place was a massive heap of… could it really be? A massive heap of peppermints? And perched on top of that massive heap of peppermints was an envelope. Gingerly, he stepped over a hundred sweets, slipped on a couple of more, and just managed to snatch his prey before falling and being buried in a candy-slide of peppermints.

Muttering and cursing to himself (and praying that nobody walked past his door), Mr. Blunt swam through the candies and found his chair. Sweeping it free of sweets, he sat down and tore the envelope open and grumpily unfolded the letter inside. By the time he'd finished it, he was both no longer confused and yet confused all over again.

The letter read:

_Dear Mr. Blunt,_

_I appreciate you paying the ransom of 10,000 peppermints, even all at once, despite how late they came. However, upon further reflection and discussion with my new therapist (Mr. Rider) I've decided that no longer will peppermints rule my life. Therefore, I have quit cold turkey in my peppermint addiction and taken up lemon drops instead._

_Thank you again,_

_Mrs. Jones_

Too stunned to be angry at his partner, Mr. Blunt idly wondered if there were any missions to send her new "therapist" on. Preferably ones that might cause his death. In a peppermint factory even...

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**A/N: The next chapter of this will be written by, once again, True Colours, my compatriot in crime! So tune in next time! Whenever that is... Heh...**

**P.S. Disclaimer: We don't own Alex Rider, or any associated characters. Darn it.**

**Review! Please?**


	5. The Peppermint Assignment

**A/N: I very nearly forgot to post this before I went to bed... Sorry True!! But here it is, the next installment of The Adventures of Hydrogen Bond!**

**This used to be Daydream Drabbles. ****You did all see that the name got changed, right? **

**Anyways, enjoy!**

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The Peppermint Assignment

by: True Colours

_No, _Alex thought_, no. Not this again!!!_

Alex tried to force his battered, exhausted body to move, to roll off the conveyor belt that was grinding inexorably towards the great melting pots of the mint factory. But what would be the point of jumping off the conveyor belt, only to fall to his death on the factory floor, a hundred feet below?

All around him machinery clanked, moving him mercilessly forward. Everything was off-white or metal, the sheer walls, the lofty ceiling, the steel gantries and observatories running round the warehouse.

"Stop!" Alex yelled, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "I'm not a mint! Put me down!"

Nothing happened. There was no one to hear. _Maybe if I'd kept a straight face_, Alex thought bitterly, _I wouldn't be in this mess now. I'd be back in class, listening to lectures about hydrogen bonds and inter-helium reactor pads and flavnoids and… shut up, shut up._ If only he hadn't laughed when Blunt tripped on the mint…

_Mrs. Jones marched him along to Blunt's office, her face filled with determination. She stopped outside, took a deep breath and entered. Alex stopped and stared, dumfounded for the second time that morning._

_Every available surface was covered with peppermints. White heaps were piled on the floor, mint humbugs filled the pot of the office plant, and when Alex tapped the filing cabinet it gave off a suspicious rattle. Two security guards were sorting through them while Blunt watched with an unfathomable expression._

_Mrs. Jones took a deep breath of un-minty air from outside, slipped a lemon drop into her mouth and began to speak. _

"_Mr. Blunt, I trust you received my letter informing you that I will no longer require these sweets."_

_Alan Blunt looked up. His face was that of a man who has endured almost more than the human mind can bear, and his voice was heavy as he replied:_

"_Yes Mrs. Jones. May I – er – congratulate you on giving up these mints?_

_And…and…thank you to enterprising young (*gulp*) Alex…"_

_Mrs. Jones beamed and patted Alex proudly on the shoulder. Alex was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He'd seen the expression on Blunt's face many times before; usually it was a warning sign that the wearer was going to throw you in a jellyfish tank, or order your immediate dissection, or something similar._

"_You sent for me, Mr. Blunt?" he asked, hoping to steer the conversation onto safer tracks. _

"_Yes, but I suppose it doesn't really matter now…ah, you may go…now, Mrs. Jones, as regards the nature of these peppermints. I never saw such a compulsion manifest its self befor…arrrgggghhh!"_

_Alex whirled round in the doorway, just in time to see Blunt step on a conveniently placed mint and go flying. His foot shot out from under him and he fell backwards, arms flailing, into the nearest pile of sweets. _

_There was an almighty crash as he landed, spraying them in all directions._

_Alex and Mrs. Jones covered their faces as they were sprayed as though with machine gun fire. The pile crunched and rattled, an all-consuming sound which threatened to shatter the world. Then silence. Mrs. Jones and the guards all stared, appalled. Alex clenched every muscle in his body, but as the seconds lengthened he began to think that he might, possibly, be OK. _

_A mint slid down, bouncing off Mr. Blunt's nose. _

"_HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Alex burst out, pointing at the head of MI6. "SO FUNNY! HAHAHA!"_

_Blunt sprang furiously to his feet, and about ten kilos of mints fell out of his trouser legs._

"_Hahaha!" Alex laughed, hanging onto the filing cabinet for support._

_Blunt glared, jerking at his collar, which spurted more mints in all directions. Alex doubled over, giggling weakly and clutching the stitch in his side. The two guards lifted him bodily and dumped him in the chair in front of where the desk had been. Blunt marched over and sat down on the pile of mints (which subsided several inches) to face him._

_Alex sniggered a bit more._

"_Mr. Rider," Blunt said icily, "I am concerned…" here he paused to shake a mint out of his shoe. "I am concerned about the content of these mints."_

"_Well, I'm concerned about the way these mints are being contained," Alex answered, staring pointedly at Blunt's feet. _

"_Therefore I intend to send you to the factory where they are produced, to search for anything suspicious. Any involvement with drug rings, nerve poisons…if Scorpia are behind this, you should certainly be our man,"_

_Blunt concluded, looking uncharacteristically smug. Alex stared at him, sobering up, so to speak, rapidly._

_He could not believe this._

_HE COULD NOT BELIEVE THIS! _

"_And what did you call me for in the first place"' he managed after a second. _

"_Ah, well, that was all a test, you see. A test to show whether you possess sufficient imagination."_

"_Sufficient imagination for what?" Alex whispered, dreading the response._

"_To become the face of our new fishbowl cover scheme." Alex closed his eyes in horror. Maybe if he didn't say anything it would all go away._

"_A cover boy at MI6 is required to be innovative and resourceful, not just a pretty face," Blunt rambled on, oblivious to the sufferings of the young agent…or else really, really enjoying them. "And once you've completed the peppermint assignment – and that is NOT to become an official operation name, by the way – we'll look into employing you as a student therapist._

_An_ _impressive repertoire for a lad not yet fifteen. You may go."_

If he'd kept his cool for just a few more seconds, he might not be in this mess now. The pile of sugar immediately in front of him poured into the huge pot in front of him, to be swamped with mint oil and gelling agents a year later. _'Uncle Joe's mints: Only three [declared] ingredients,'_ Alex thought sarcastically. Four, counting the cocaine they were cooking into every other batch. And five, counting the human. '_How many ingredients are there in a human? SHUT UP!'_ Alex thought again. He had to think, use his imagination and…

His fingers, scrabbling in his pocket, met a small object and pulled it forth. It was one of Mrs. Jones' lemon drops! He remembered her speaking to him: _"Alex, in grave need, use the lemon drop. It will give you strength!"_

Alex seized both ends of the wrapper, untwisted it and bundled the sweet into his mouth.

The sharp, invigorating taste of pure lemon zest filled his mouth, flooding his metabolism with energy. He sucked on the sweet and his blood sugar levels skyrocketed. With a wild war whoop, he sprang from the conveyor belt towards the walkway surrounding the warehouse.

He had felt for one wild moment that his leap must surely carry him straight over the railings and on to solid ground, but he had been mistaken. His grasping hands just managed to close round the bottom-most rod of steel before his body plummeted, almost wrenching his arms from their sockets. Next second he was dangling over the void, hands clenched round the slippery rails. Alex felt himself sliding…

_Oh sugar_, he thought, and then began to laugh hysterically, suspended a hundred feet above the ground. _I really am going insane_, he thought, when he suddenly caught sight of a lone figure, staring down at him with an expression of mild surprise. Alex blinked, and realised that it appeared to be Yassen Gregorovich.

This did nothing to convince him of his sanity.

"I take it you didn't give up spying?" Yassen remarked after a moment.

"Uh, no," Alex panted, trying to maintain his grip on the railings.

"Or join Scorpia either?"

"Well, as your advice is like blatantly contradictory from one week to the next, what was I supposed to do?"

"That is not a correct usage of the word 'like', Alex. You need to improve your grasp of the English language."

"Look, much as I would love to continue this conversation, it's my grasp on the rails that I'm worried about at the moment-"

Before he could get any further Yassen reached down and pulled him effortlessly up onto the walkway. For a few seconds Alex could only lie and gasp, then he managed to say:

"Thanks."

"Think nothing of it."

"Cool. So what brings you here?"

"I'm doing an assignment for Scorpia," Yassen replied illuminatingly.

"So it was YOU sending Mrs. Jones cocaine-spiked peppermints!" Alex cried. Everything was beginning to make sense.

"Mrs. Jones? Mints? No, we had nothing to do with that. Nor did the original owners, as far as I know."

_Wow_, thought Alex, _she was really addicted to pure peppermint._

"It's a good idea, though," Yassen mused, rising. "I must go and suggest it to the high ups. Goodness knows we need something to do with this factory." He made as if to stride off, but Alex wrapped both arms around his legs and brought him crashing to the floor again.

"Oh no you don't, you plagiarist! And anyway, what do Scorpia want with a mint factory?"

"They have their uses," Yassen muttered evasively.

"Yeah, such as? You said it yourself, you have no use for them!"

"Fine," the Russian sighed, settling himself more comfortably…i.e. not very. "A month ago we received intelligence that Uncle Joe's was dealing in cocaine. Scorpia do not like competition, so I was sent to blow them up or buy them out, whichever proved cheaper."

"And which was cheaper?"

"Buying them out, of course!" Yassen threw him an exasperated look.

"That surprises me, I would have guessed blowing them up."

"Yes, it's really quite wonderful what the credit crunch – and a few skillfully applied threats – will do to people's prices," Yassen remarked.

"Besides," his face darkened, "the cost of uranium is skyrocketing. We're lucky if we can procure it at all, and even then it's low-grade stuff."

"It's all these people turning to nuclear energy to combat global warming," Alex tutted.

"Exactly. I consider it preposterous. In my day we – "

"And I hate to think what the economic downturn is doing to the terrorism business," Alex interrupted, shaking his head sorrowfully. "Assassins will be becoming redundant left, right and centre, I should imagine."

"Of course not!" the Russian snapped.

"Really? I would have said it was an ideal place to cut costs."

"There will always be a market for assassination among serious businessmen," Yassen declared, glaring.

"What is the point," Alex enquired, "of shelling out half a million pounds to some hotshot sniper when you can get much the same effect with a brick in a sock?"

"Never speak slightingly of the assassination business, Alex," Yassen said sternly. "Only people who can't get into it do that."

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**TC's A/N: From 'The Importance of Being Ernest', lol. Total crackfic in every ****sense.**

**Review? Please?**


	6. Double Bonded

**Author's Note: So yeah, it's been a moment or two, but it happens. *shrug* *innocent grin***

**Anyways, enjoy!**

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It was another lovely afternoon in the Royal and General Bank, at least in the staff's opinion. A certain underage spy would have begged to differ. Once again, they'd pulled him out of his favourite class, Biology.

"Alex, we've called you in today to share some important news," began Mrs. Jones with a smile.

"You're getting married?" gasped Alex, eyes wide.

Mr. Blunt, who was still pouting over the fact that Alex had survived the peppermint factory, grumbled out a "No."

"I'm going to be a big brother? I've always wanted a sister!"

Blunt scowled. "No."

"It's now illegal to employ 14-year-old spies?"

"No! Well, yes… but no!"

"Scorpia's passing out free peppermints?"

Mrs. Jones' lips thinned as she thought of her former lover. "No, Alex, dear. We're going to find you a partner!"

Alex stared at the pair for a moment, stunned into silence. Mrs. Jones seized the opportunity to tell him more.

"Obviously, he'll be a bit older than you, and you'll still probably work alone most of the time, but he'll always be close by in case you need back up."

Alex held up a hand and Mrs. Jones slid to a halt in her pro-partnership spiel.

"So… what you're saying," he said slowly, "is that you're giving me a partner? So that'll be two people filling one position… and since I'm Agent Bond," and here, he got quite excited, "You'll be double bonded! Wow, I knew you were a bit dry, but I never would have suspected you of being unsaturated!"

Laughing madly, Alex skipped happily out the door, leaving the two spymasters to shake their heads in disbelief and, in Blunt's case, throw something.

Alex merrily frolicked down the hallway, nearly running into Mr. Smithers. He joyfully embraced the man before making his way out of the building and to his home in Chelsea.

xXx

The next day in school, Alex was called into the office. He grinned cheerfully at the baffled secretary and stepped into the headmaster's office.

"Alex," said Mr. Bray, "Do you have any idea why your guardian called this morning and demanded we drop you from your Biology class?"

Fin.

Disclaimer: Please, do not use anything you learn here in your biology class, or any other science course. I am not a licensed scientist. Thank you.

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**A/N: There was a bit more to this story, but I felt it would probably be more humourous to leave it at that. I'm hoping you'll think the same, but if you _really _want to read about Alex sucking up to Mr. Bray to stay in Bio, just tell me and I'll PM it to you.**

**"Please sir, can I have a review?"**

**"Review???!! You want a review?!?!?"**

**Yeah... I might have an Oliver! thread stuck in my noggin...**


	7. Normal Boy

**A/N: I actually didn't intend for this to be part of AoHB, but it wanted to be placed there, so I gave in.**

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It was a very normal day, especially for Alex Rider. So far, nothing had blown up, nobody had tried to kill him, and the school lunch didn't look radioactive. Okay, so maybe the day wasn't _that _normal… but Alex would take what he could get. So he went to classes like a normal boy, ate lunch like a normal boy, and fooled around with his friends like a normal boy.

And in his very last class, he finished his quiz with the flourish of someone who knows exactly what he's talking about and turned it in, like a very normal boy.

Later that evening, his teacher graded the quiz of that very normal boy and leaned back in bafflement as he stared at the only perfect score on his pop quiz essay for "Explosive Chemicals and Their Uses".

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**A/N: Also, sadly, not as many shenanigans as usual.**

**Cookie for your thoughts?**


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